Prepare the Masses
by Danwea
Summary: Part of the Album Challenge. 12 Chapters, each a one-shot based around the DA, the first Order, the Battle of Hogwarts and its Aftermath. Each Chapter is different song from the album Prepare the Masses by A Change of Pace. Author's Note inside.
1. Prepare the Masses

**Author's Note:**__So, the usual applies: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm sorry if I ruin the characters.

This is my answer to The Album Challenge. Prepare the Masses is an album by A Change of Pace and each chapter focuses around a different set of characters and are all loosely linked to the Battle of Hogwarts, Dumbledore's Army (under Neville), the First Order and the Aftermath of the War. So, twelve chapters or, if you will, twelve one-shots.

They're not all strictly songfics, the songs are more prompts, but some, inevitably, are.

Please read and review and most importantly, enjoy.

**Song One**

**Prepare the Masses**

_Prepare the masses, 'cause this means war  
And if it's a fight they want, we'll bring the hell they're looking for.  
With bullets blazing, the cowards hit the floor  
Stand up and fight like men, let God decide who's coming._

_Now sit back and watch this story unfold,  
With the fair Juliet and her Romeo.  
Two young lovers with one heartbeat,  
In a devoted grave is where they'll sleep._

-

The Hall was scattered with different coloured gems and bits of brick and wood. Holes had been blasted into walls and floor alike and great chunks of the marble staircase were missing. He slumped against the inside wall, staring around at a place he once conceived safe.

As he took a deep shuddering breath, he knew he would never leave this place again.

Across the hall were students in violent combat with five Death Eaters. He knew those students. He had taught them. "Neville, no! What are you doing?" he heard himself shout, only just aware that his feet were dashing across the uneven flooring and his wand was raised and shooting brilliant jets of blue light over the black cloaked figures.

"Professor Lupin!" There was a cut above Neville's left eye that was congealing slowly and crouched beside him, clutching at his stomach was a curly haired boy, a girl with a plait fussing over him.

Susan Bones looked up to meet his eye, "A hex, something nasty," she said, indicating the boy on the floor.

Remus drew his wand and muttered, "Finite." Nothing happened. He pointed his wand at the cut above Neville's eye and the skin healed instantly.

"What did it do to you? Ernie, can you speak?"

"Don't. Know."

"Susan, hide with him, somewhere safe. Go, now. Hurry."

Safe. He wasn't even sure what that meant any more. He hadn't been safe in years, not really. Safety was something you had to forego when you became a werewolf twelve or thirteen times a year.

One of the Death Eaters was stirring, his fingers reaching out towards a fallen wand.

-

_He didn't like to think about Sirius any more. He had lost him once already, lost him to Voldemort and Azkaban for twelve long years. _

_There had always been something wrong with that, something that would fester in the pit of his stomach that never seemed right. When he had been told that Sirius had sold Lily and James out, he had not believed it. The idea that Sirius would betray James was ridiculous. And yet, all the facts, all the witnesses, stated otherwise and in one swift move, those childhood friend, his first friends, his best friends, his_ only _friends were all wrenched from him. In the space of twenty four hours, he was alone. No James, no Lily, no Peter and no Sirius._

_Trusting Sirius again, after learning the truth, felt like awakening from a dream when he hadn't even notices he was sleeping. Sirius was there, he was alive and he was on their side. And for a few short months it was almost like being back in the first Order, back before it all went wrong._

_But then the Department of Mysteries happened. Bellatrix happened. Sirius was gone. Really gone this time with no possible way of return. And he felt as though he was back to that horrible November first, all those years ago._

_"It's just not fair." He hated how childish he sounded. Her eyes softened and she rested a hand on the top of his greying brown tresses, biting her lip. "I just feel so alone. They've all gone. I have no one."_

_She straightened up in the bed, retracting her hand from his head. He looked up at her from where he sat on a chair at her bedside. She was pale and her features were drawn. Her hair, that was usually so bright and vibrant had settled into a curling mess of brown and there were shadows under her eyes. "You have me," she whispered._

_He sat still for a moment, staring her down._

_"Don't," he said simply, shifting in his seat away from her._

_She shot a glance at the flowers he had brought, blooming in the vase he had conjured. "Remus, look at me."_

_He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Look at every single person I've called a friend," he said simply, still refusing to meet her gaze. "James and Lily and now Sirius, Peter is a Death Eater for Christ's sake! And look at me, I'm a werewolf Nymphadora, I spread disaster to whoever I get close to."_

_"You're being melodramatic. And don't call me that."_

_"I'm being realistic, _Nymphadora."

_She scowled. They sat in silence for a long time._

_"Why did you come here, Remus?"_

_"To see you, to make sure you were okay after what happened at the Ministry."_

_"I'm fine and you knew that I would be. Why did you come here, Remus?"_

_"I-"_

_"Is it about what I told you before we left?" He didn't answer. "Because I'm not taking it back, Remus."_

_"I wouldn't expect you to." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat again._

_"I like you, Remus," she said quietly, her gaze levitating towards the flowers. "I like you a lot. Sometimes I even think I could love you, if you let me close enough."_

_He stood abruptly. "Please, don't Nymphadora. You deserve someone better than me, someone who can give you a future and a family." He grabbed at his cloak that was hanging over the back of his chair. "Forget about me."_

_She bit her bottom lip, "Remus, Remus please don't leave."_

_"Goodbye, Tonks."_

_"I'm not going to forget about you," she shouted, as he opened the door to the ward. "I won't do it. I can't." He had gone._

-

A streak of purple snapped at his ankle and he fell to the ground instantly, his flesh burning. Within a split second, he could feel another attack coming and he rolled to his left, jumping to his feet as he went. A blinding pain shot up his right leg but he ignored it as he began sending as many hexes and curses as the masked figure he was so sure he had already felled.

And then out of the corner of his eye he saw her, running down the stairs of the great hall, her wand raised, sending a shining white spell at the head of the Death Eater he was duelling, who fell, face first to the ground.

"Dora, what the hell are you doing here?" he yelled, turning to look at her, beaming.

"Saving your arse," she shouted back, sending a stunner at the back of another Death Eater who crumpled.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw him – the monstrosity of a man who would prey on the young, the vulnerable – and his eyes were fixated upon his wife. "No."

-

_Dumbledore's death changed things. There was no one to hand out orders now, no reason to stay away. He was unsure whether to remain amongst his kind or else just go on the run. Both were appealing to an extent. But then she was there, on his doorstep, a flask of potion in hand. _

_"For tonight," she told him, forcing it into his hands. _

_"Excuse me?" he said, staring at the flask._

_"Wolfsbane. For next week. Snape can't brew it any more and I thought you might be greatful. If not, I won't bother next month." Her arms were crossed and her eyes were ablaze._

_"You-you brewed this, for me?"_

_"No, it was for extra credit with the Aurors."_

_"But, Nymphadora, this is, I just-"_

_"I thought you'd be like this. I'll go. Don't worry. I won't impose my company on you." She turned away and began up the corridor._

_"Tonks, wait. Please." He was still holding the flask in his hand aloft._

_"What is it Remus?" she snapped, turning around to face him. Her hair was beginning to change fire red. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear. I just thought-"_

_But before she could finish, he had walked towards her and pressed his lips against hers. As they broke away, he caught her eye, "No, Dora, I don't think I _have _made my feelings very clear at all."_

-

Greyback had launched himself at her before he could even shout a warning. Anger pulsated through his veins, the wolf inside of him rearing up, ready to meet it's creator. He set a burst of orange flame across Fenrir's face, his body flying away from Dora, her blood trailing from his mouth. "Dora, speak to me," he shouted, as Fenrir ambled to his feet, clutching the burn across his left cheek.

"Touching," he said, grabbing his own wand and sending a shot of green light soaring over Remus' head. And then they were battling violently, each searching to hurt, to maim, to kill, their wands blurs and all the while every thought he had – about Dora, bleeding on the floor, of Teddy at home with Andromeda, Teddy who he was sure he would never see again – had to be pushed aside, become secondary thought or else he knew he _wouldn't_ see them again, would never find her again to make sure she was okay.

And in a triumphant explosion of golden light, Fenrir flew backwards, hitting a wall and sliding away out of sight.

He turned around, calling her name, elated. But his eyes fell upon Bellatrix instead.

Bellatrix duelling his Dora.

Bellatrix beating her.

Her eyes met his, "Remus, watch out!" she screamed. But her split second distraction, her warning cry gave Bellatrix the upper hand. He saw the green leaving Bella's wand, saw Dora's own eye bore into his own, felt a curse hit him side on and then there was nothing at all.

-

_Ted had hardly been happy when Remus had taken him aside to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. Remus explained that he understood – what parent's would want a werewolf for a son-in-law? – but Ted only laughed at this, saying that he sure as hell didn't care about _that_. He was happy as long as Dora was happy, he was just a little worried that they were rushing things. Again Remus understood, nodding in agreement at Ted's words but he explained that Dora wanted to do things quickly, before it was too late and Ted had laughed again. "When that girl gets an idea in her head, she won't let it go," he had said. "Remus, son, you never really stood a chance."_

_The wedding itself was simple and discreet. Remus had wanted to ask Harry to be his best man but they both agreed it was far too dangerous to take him from the safety of his Aunt and Uncle's before it was absolutely necessary. _

_As a short wizard with flyaway grey hair pronounced them bonded for life, he leant down and kissed her gently on the lips, cupping her face in his hands. As they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "I'll love you forever, Dora. I think I always have."_


	2. How To Rape A Country

**Song Two**

**How to Rape a Country**

_The beat of war reigns on  
Can you hear the sound of marching drums?_

He knew this room was supposedly silent, after all he was surrounded by the dead – dead protectors (that was Professor _Lupin _over there), dead children (how the _hell _did Colin Creevey get back into the school?), dead friends (oh God, that was _Lavender_) – but all Seamus could hear was noise; the explosions, the screams, the falling rubble, the curses, the splintering wood, the sobs, the roar of flames.

_And bullets fill the sky  
Men kill to show their nation's pride_

Blood. Pure blood mania was all it came down to, really. To be Muggle-born, a mudblood, now made you less than human. But he _was_ a wizard. He didn't care whether they thought he was or not. He could do _magic,_ real _magic_ and he was going to prove it to them.

Dumbledore's Army had just been the beginning. They weren't rebelling against a teacher refusing them the use of magic any more, the time for that was long gone. They were rebelling against the state now, the government, the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time.

He was sixteen years old and he knew that at sixteen, his biggest worry should have been which girl he'd lose his virginity to. Instead, he had to perform magic that was years more advanced than he'd ever dreamt of in a desperate attempt to hide his family before they came to take his and Dennis' wands, to convict them for life in Azkaban, whilst they murdered their parents in the name of Blood. He would teach them that he was a real wizard.

There were flashes of light flying everywhere and before he knew it, there were three Death Eaters laying at his feet, stunned or dead, he couldn't remember which and nor did he really care. He kept them there as a warning, to prove that to be a Muggle born could make you just as powerful as anyone boasting the purity of their blood.

And when those silver arrows began to magnetise towards him, no matter which way he turned, he knew this was his time. He closed his eyes and shouted a killing curse, hearing the Death Eater fall with a thud as the arrows hit him, piercing his skin, forcing him into the sweet release of death.

_The smell of death and blood  
Hold memories of your loved one's close_

She heard his pounding footsteps, could feel his brittle nails dig into her shoulders as he collided with her side on and then she was flying through the air. The only thing she was aware of was the sheer stench of blood and sweat on his breath and clothes. She landed ungracefully, her bones shattering as she hit the ground hard.

Fenrir's body smothered her own and she felt his lips press against her neck, felt a rumble in his chest as he spoke, felt his lips pull back, felt his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her throat...

_Find hope in pain, my friend,  
Brother's in arms until the end._

Neville pulled Ernie's arm onto his shoulders. "Susan, cover us from behind," he said, beginning to pull Ernie's dead weight forwards.

She made noises of agreement, walking backwards, wand aloft, sending jinxes and hexes into the fray. "Where are we taking him, Commander?" she asked, stunning a masked figure.

Neville assessed their surroundings, "We're close to your Common Room, right? Do you reckon you might be safe in there, for a while?"

They hastened down the corridor, Ernie still groaning, clutching at his stomach. It was quiet down here, the torches in the brackets had been extinguished.

"Neville, I don't like this," came Susan's voice sharply. "This doesn't feel-"

But an unnatural chill had spread down the corridor and then he saw them, cloaked, gliding, scabbed hands and rattling breath. "Expecto Patronum!" Neville cried, brandishing his wand towards the advancing figures. A burst of silvery white floated between the three of them and the dementors.

"Your memory isn't strong enough," moaned Susan, who's wand was trembling in her hand, not even conjuring vapour.

Hopelessness was speeding through his very soul. The was it, nothing to save them. His feeble attempt at a patronus faded and died. They were getting closer and closer.

"Not," said Ernie. "Not. Susan." He raised his wand and cried, "Expecto! Patronum!"

_Slumber sweet with dreams of home  
Hand in hand, don't march alone_

Tiny hands were grabbing at his body and water was being splashed over his face, waking him. His stomach hurt. A lot. He rolled over and vomited.

"Ernie?" asked a voice. It sounded like Neville. "Ernie, can you hear me?"

He grunted.

"Get him to St Mungo's," ordered Neville's voice.

"No."

"Ernie-"

"Go to St Mungo's. Bring the Healers here. We _need_ them _here_. Please." He opened his eyes, he was in the kitchens, with eight House Elves bowed over him.

"Does my Master Harry need my help?" asked an older elf with fluffy white ear hair.

"I-I don't know."

"Then I shall go to the Healers," said the elf. "They will be here soon."

_We've got a thirst for your blood,  
It's pumping through our veins.  
Wait till the moment's right,  
Show no mercy._

Harry would not have asked him to do it if it wasn't important. The sword was so heavy as he lifted it high, spread his weight and swung the blade forwards. The sword met resistance as he sliced through the snake's neck but the head still fell to the ground. The Dark Lord was splattered with the blood of his precious pet and it was then that Neville noticed all he had broken lose again.

_What do we have to fear?  
Lock stock, let's blow them all away_

His face was shining with childish excitement. He pulled out his wand and shot a stunner at the nearest cloaked figure. "Damn you, Colin! What the hell are you doing here?" shouted Neville, sending a leg-locker at an advancing figure. "You're going to get yourself killed, you idiot!"

_Then hide yourself in sleep  
Hopeful they'll take you in the night_

Cho dragged her body into the corner of the Entrance Hall, her legs removed of bone and no longer able to support the rest of her body. She could feel that the curse was spreading upwards and she felt physically sick from the blinding, burning sensation that was speeding through her muscles and tendons. She pulled her useless legs upwards, curling herself into a ball, sobbing.

She felt conciousness slip away from her, closing her eyes into a turbulent sleep of fire and bright lights, of pain and noise, of wishing they find you, to save you, or kill you.

_Eyes bloodshot, red straining ears  
You'll see the ghost inside their eyes_

She twirled her wand and shot a tripping jinx under her arm. The Death Eater stumbled forwards, his feet catching on his long robes. He fell in a heap, his mask slipping from his face.

His eyes were glazed: Imperiused. Hannah crouched down, pulled the wand out of his slack grip and stunned him.

A normal man, wearing Death Eater robes, just to get in the heads of children. Disgusting.

_A country left in tears  
Watching the flag burn and die_

She hastened through the hall, a fuchsia cloak thrown over a canary yellow nightie. Her quill was out and she had parchment in hand. The sentences were already forming themselves on the page; '_Forty slaughtered teenagers in the grounds of Hogwarts_.' '_The Boy Who Lived defeats the Dark Lord._' Yes, yes, snappy stories. And she spotted him then, pale, exhausted, crouching down beside two dead bodies, wiping at tears on his cheeks.

The quill began to zoom across the page '_The Boy Who Lived Bares All to _Rita Skeeter_, your number one correspondent on the end of one of the worst Wizarding Wars of our History. His first detailed interview since defeating You Know Who, telling us where he's been the past year, how he defeated the greatest Dark Wizard of all time and of the pain he feels having lost so many loved ones._' Yes, she thought again, making a beeline towards him, that story would be even better.

_Slumber sweet with dreams of home,  
Hand in hand, don't march alone._

She appeared in a swirl of green robes and a loud crack, hardly a minute since he had left. The House Elf bowed low, "Kreacher brings you a Healer as requested."

She dropped to her knees and pulled out her wand, "What happened? What is going on? The elf said something about a fight?"

Neville snorted. "A fight is one word for it, but I think a more appropriate one would be a battle, if not all out warfare."

Her eyes widened in horror and she turned back to Kreacher. "Go back to St Mungo's. Go, now. All of you," she said, turning to all the elves. "Tell them Healer Galen has imposed the Nightingale Effect immediately and that at least thirty Healers are to be summoned to Hogwarts School instantaneously. Hurry." She turned back to Ernie, "Where'd you get hit? What colour was the spell?"

"Stomach. It was pink. Maybe red. It feels like – something is trying to claw. Claw at my insides. To rip them out."

She ripped open his shirt and began running her wand over his flesh, murmuring whole sentences in Latin and prodding his sides with her wand. "This is a nasty bit of magic. It's almost like three hexes at once. You," she turned to Susan, "I want you to hold your wand here and press the tip into his flesh, hard and speak the words _tersus venter_. And you," she indicated Neville, "hold your wand at his side and do not touch his flesh at all or you'll find your wand glued to your friends skin. You will say _Iuris Ile_," she took a deep breath. "On the count of three..."

_We've got a thirst for your blood  
It's pumping through our veins  
Wait till the moment's right  
Show no mercy_

He gave a guttural scream, the wolf inside of him howling out at the sight of Fred's prone body. His little brother. And it no longer mattered that he was a grown man or a wizard, he launched himself towards the nearest Death Eater, one hand clasping around their neck, the other clawing at his face with his bare nails.

_Dreams of more_

"Shit!" he screamed as the three spells hit his stomach together. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No, you impertinent little bastard. I am saving your life."

_We've got a thirst for your blood  
(We've got a thirst for your blood)  
Wait till the moment's right  
Show no mercy_

He had had enough of the certain wizards who thought they were better than everyone else because they could do a bit more magic. He had had enough of being talked down to. He had had enough of them all.

Albus had done it. The brilliant son. The golden child.

Grindelwald had done it too. The thief. The brilliant friend of his brother's. The murderer.

And now this _Lord Voldemort_, with his stupid name and ugly ideas. Well that was it.

He waved his wand at a pile of rubble, transfiguring it into a herd of goats. They wouldn't laugh at him now.

Another flick of his wand and he sent the herd into a stampeding frenzy. The nearest Death Eater's didn't stand a chance.

None of them did.

_We've got a thirst for your blood  
It's pumping through our veins  
Wait till the moment's right  
Show no mercy  
We've got a thirst for your blood  
It's pumping through our veins  
Wait till the moment's right  
Show no mercy_

**Author's Note:** I struggled writing this because I'm a very big fan of Thanfiction's Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness fic and I pretty much take his version of the Battle of Hogwarts and fact. That said, I tried to do my own thing with the characters.

Although I did pinch Commander Longbottom.

Please Read and Review. I've got Ginny coming up next!


	3. I'm Alive

**Song Three**

**I'm Alive**

_We're too young at heart  
Hoping for one more day_

My moods tend to fluctuate. Sometimes I'm hideously angry. And not just with him. Usually, I get angry at all three of them: retarded brother and his smartarse girlfriend and of course, him. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived. My bloody ex-boyfriend.

And it's not like I _want_ to be angry with them. Especially not with Harry.

But sometimes, I just can't help it.

Other times, all I do is curl up and cry. I'm sixteen and I've just been dumped for Lord Voldemort. I understand his reasons, I'd probably do the same if I were him but that doesn't make it any easier. Those days I have to be bribed with Honeyduke's best just to get out of bed. And I don't just cry because we broke up. I cry because I don't even know if he's coming back. If any of them are coming back.

Hermione may be a know-it-all pain in the arse sometimes but she really is like the sister I never had. That might sound cliché but it's true.

And Ron, my over-protective older brother, who, last time I saw him, I yelled at for almost spilling butterbeer on my dress.

I wish Bill's wedding could've just been passed over, that the Ministry could've held out just another day. It was meant to be happy. It was meant to be perfect. There weren't meant to be Death Eaters apparating onto the cake or Ministry Officials trying to arrest the guests.

_Everything you mean to me_

Sometimes, in that time suspended between conciousness and sleep, I let my mind wander. I think about where they are, what they're doing, how they're keeping safe. But most of the time I think of the future.

The Plan was the best we had. We had to make a stand. But the idea of dying still frightened me, like I knew it should. I'm throwing away my whole life.

But there are times when I let myself think of the life I could have if I survived. Somehow, miraculously, they always include Harry.

Because deep down, I knew that if he died I would too.

I wasn't sure on the details but I knew I'd fight anyone who might've done it. And I hate admitting I'm the kind of girl who's whole life depends on her boyfriend, who would be nothing without the guy she loves but I am.

If I lived and Harry didn't I doubt I could carry on.

_I'm alive when I'm missing you  
I'm alive but too far from your room_

I wanted to play Quidditch professionally. I was good enough for it. Of course I could never beat Harry's dads goal scoring record but still, I was pretty close. Yes, I'd play professional Qudditch. The Harpies too, if I had anything to do with it.

And when I think about it, in those long hours spent lying in bed, I tended to plan out my brothers' lives for them as well.

Charlie would probably run off with some Romanian dragon worker. Mum was entirely in denial but Charlie was so gay that it hurt. I imagine they'd live in a little wooden hut on the edge of the reservation. He'd probably be introduced as Charlie's 'good friend' so that Mum wouldn't pass out from sheer shock.

With Fred and George, I always imagined they'd marry twins as well. I always wondered if the Patil twins might not have caught their eye at some point, but the first DA was enough for me to dispel that idea. Parvati basically wanted into Lavender's silk panties and everyone knew it. So I just assumed that Fred and George'd find a pretty pair of Muggle twins, allowing Dad to explode from excitement at the idea of having Muggles as in-laws.

Obviously, Ron and Hermione would sort themselves out and get together. The only ones who didn't know that were Ron and Hermione. Well, that's a lie, they both wanted it but neither would admit it to the other.

And then Hermione would probably be my Maid of Honour when I married Harry too.

Because, of course I'd marry Harry. These were my fantasies after all. Mum, of course, would probably die of happiness on the spot. Harry would officially be her son and it'd give her yet another chance to plan a wedding. She would be revolting.

But somehow, I always tended to gloss over Percy's future. He hadn't been my brother for a very long time.

_I remember not sleeping  
Hold on tight  
Come with me  
I left my heart on your bed sheets not knowing  
What it means to be here_

I don't really sleep any more. When you live in fear of yet another Cruciatus, of being beaten within an inch of your life, of just disappearing off the face of the earth, it's difficult to let your guard down long enough to lull into nothingness. But when I do manage to get to sleep, I have nightmares.

Always the same ones too.

I run into a burning building, into a burning Hogwarts, into a burning Burrow and I know that every person I love is trapped inside and that I'm the only one who can save them because I'm the only one that knows that they're there. I know, at least on a basic level, what it means. I don't need an OWL in Divination to decipher its hidden meanings.

_Everywhere I wish you'd be_

I took to imagining how I'd react when I saw Harry again. I wondered if I would actually ever see him alive and whole. I wondered if he would be so broken from the war that he wouldn't let anyone close again.

I tended to play out all the different scenarios. The ones where I threw myself into his arms and sobbed. The ones where I just held him tight and didn't let go. The ones where I was so angry I hexed him. The ones where I was so angry I forgot I could use magic and just slapped him. The ones where he died.

Most of the time I would end up sobbing into my pillow. But all I had to do was imagine his lips on mine an all my worries went away. He was Harry. He was _my_ Harry and I wasn't going to let him die. I wasn't going to let him break.

I would give him his happy ending no matter what.

_I'm alive when I'm missing you  
I'm alive but too far  
I'm alive when I'm missing you  
I'm alive but too far from your room_

_-_

**AN:** So, Gin's may seem a bit short but internally monologuing Ginny is a lot harder than I originally thought. The song as a whole doesn't quite fit the story I gave it, hence the randomly pulled lines here and there. Onto Sirius next with a slightly lighter-hearted tone!


	4. Shoot From the Hip

**Song Four**

**Shoot from the Hip**

_Heartbreak baby is half the fun,  
You bring the bullets, I'll bring the guns.  
Take ten steps now turn and draw,  
I shoot from the hip then watch you fall._

**Moira Miller**

The first girlfriend. Second Year. The fiery Irish redhead who had a way with making the most dirty of things sound sweet and innocent. Together for three months although he was kissing Julie Henshaw from the year below in broom closets for a couple of weeks as well before they broke up.

**Julie Henshaw**

The disaster. Only official for three days. She got too cling far to quickly. And then it was over.

**Anna Smith**

Straight black hair and those beautiful brown eyes. Completely plain but utterly adorable. But too much of a Hufflepuff on the inside. He wasn't usually one to judge by House but Anna was a push over and he liked his girls to be a bit more bold than that. That, and after a week and a half of ignoring her wonky teeth in favour of focusing on her cute qualities, he'd had enough.

**Carly Henshaw**

The younger sister of the aforementioned Julie. His third year, her first. Little girl didn't know what had hit her. Tree weeks later she realised she was out of her depth, especially when her sister publicly disowned her in the Entrance Hall.

**Cassarissa Armitage **

The blonde and blushing second year who asked him to be her Valentine's. She was adorable and they were together for four months before _she_ dumped _him_ because she didn't want to stand a summer apart.

**Ophelia Dixon**

Thought the sun shone out of her own backside but she was a damn good kisser and pretty easy on the eye. Not to mention she did things with her hands that made his eyes bug. It lasted all of a week.

**Cassarissa Armitage**

Cassie was jealous, dumped her boyfriend of a month and jumped his bones almost as soon as he'd walked through the portrait hole. Another two months together and they were doing things they were sure would've got them a years worth of detentions, at least, if they were caught.

**Alecto Carrow**

Never again. James gave him 20 Galleons for it. Just the one kiss,tongues and all in the middle of the Great Hall at lunch. Of course, she's only kissed her brother since.

**Ametta Puddifoot**

Remus liked her and she liked him. He kissed her only the grand total of four times before his guilt attack forced him to admit that she was pining after the wrong friend.

**Catherine Andrews**

One drunken night in fifth year. She was James' girlfriend. And a game of truth or dare locked him in a cupboard with her for five minutes where he showed her just what a boy could do with his tongue. Although the way she kept moving his hands around made him think James had gone a little further with her than he was letting on.

**James Potter**

Just the one kiss. The Firewhisky was to blame. Oh, and Peter.

**Mary McDonnald**

Irritating and not really his type but she jumped a chance to snog him. Afterall, baring Lily, she was the only Gryffindor girl in their year he hadn't touched. And of course he wouldn't touch Lily, James would've murdered him.

**Remus Lupin**

He was sure Peter was deranged when he kept forcing him to kiss the other Marauders. And then it dawned on him that maybe Peter wanted some of the action at which point he discreetly pointed his wand at himself and vomited everywhere.

**Lily Evans**

It was just a peck and it was something that he took entirely to the grave. But it wasn't his fault he couldn't pass up on a dare and Lily found out sooner rather than later what a dangerous thing that could be.

**Brooke Goldstein**

Tall, blonde, blue-eyed Brooke. Beautiful, big boobed and big mouthed. And she knew how to use it in more ways than one. Well, once he'd had his way with her, of course. Two months later she ended it and he suddenly had a thing for smart girls.

**Millicent Proudfoot**

Brooke's best friend and apparently out-of-bounds although titles never were enough to scare him off. Milly became a bitch and turned on her best friend, all for a pair of grey eyes and some smooth talk that lasted no longer than six weeks.

**Aria Burns**

The sixth year who he only got with, to sleep with. The older girl who taught him a lot. And she was bloody hot as well.

**Sophia and Serena Thicket**

Identical twins. Caramel skinned. Deep chocolate eyes. How could he say no?

**Josephine Bott**

She'd been eyeing him up for years. And she was actually a rather sweet girl. One disastrous date later she never spoke to him again.

**Isabelle Vicario**

It was only ever meant to be sex. Nothing more. But he couldn't stay away. Curly haired and green eyed, smart and with just the right amount of funny. A Pure blood though who he gave his heart to, although he never admitted it. And then she did the unforgivable. She went and broke his.

_Heartbreak baby is half the fun,  
You bring the bullets, I'll bring the guns.  
Take ten steps now turn and draw,  
I shoot from the hip then watch you fall._

**Author's Note:** This is one of my favourite songs off of this album. I think it's fantastic and it really works with the fandom image of Sirius being a bit of a player. Nearly all of these are OCs (quite obviously) and they will feature within the canon of my fanifc Darkness Rising (lol, shameless plug). Hopefully though, you like them :]


	5. Weekend Warriors

**Song Five**

**Weekend Warriors**

_Weekends are for the warriors,  
All those late nights walking through front doors at daybreak.  
Raise all, of the glasses high,  
This one's to all of us sitting around here on Friday night.  
I remember eighteen,  
Hated Mondays,  
And sitting and staring at the clock, dying to get away.  
Don't look back,  
Have no regrets,  
We only got two days and time won't wait for us._

I couldn't ask for a better place to be.

It was astounding just how much Firewhiskey Michael could put away. Eight glasses on and he still seemed as sober as when they had started. Neville raised his head from its cushion in his arms and attempted to point this out but found that his lips we numb.

Seamus roared with laughter. "'Ere, I think our dear Commander's not used t'drinking s'much."

"S'howis Michael dongit?" he tried again.

Seamus' head lolled backwards, gasping for breath through his laughter.

Terry clambered over the table that was littered with glasses and empty bottles and tumbled into Neville. Righting himself, hands on his friend's shoulders, he peered into his face. "Drunk, are you?" he asked menacingly, his face still too close to Neville's. He straightened up, pulled out his wand and pointed it at Neville's lips.

"Sob-" he began, "Bree-Brighton!" he concluded.

Then he stopped, staring at his outstretched hand. His wand no where in sight.

Michael was holding two wands in his long fingers, an impish smile playing on his lips. "You guys are wankered," he announced matter-of-fact, watching Terry as he still blinked at his empty hand.

"Where'd my wand go?" he asked over Seamus' renewed laughter.

Shaking his head, Michael grabbed Terry's arm and forced him into a vacant chair. "You," he said, poking his best friend in the chest, "are a poor excuse for a Ravenclaw. Understand me? There is a simple rule to doing magic under the influence: Don't. You could've removed all of Neville's teeth! Or melted his lips together! Or blown his head off!"

"But where'd my wand go?"

Seamus carried on laughing.

"Here," announced Michael, flashing the strip of wood. Terry's hand jerked, as if about to take it until Michael shook his head. "No, you're not going to get it back until you've sobered up. And I'm not in a forgiving mood after that display so you'll be doing it the Muggle way."

"You, ma friend, 'ave been told!" shouted Seamus, bursting into yet another wave of laughter.

"And you, Finnigan," he snapped, rounding on the Irish Gryffindor. "What have you been taking, aside from the Whiskey?"

Seamus turned his large, brown, watering eyes onto Michael and fluttered his eyelashes. "I dunno what'cha mean, Mike."

"Don't lie to-" but his voice died.

There was a creak as the door began to slowly edge open.

From his position on the floor, where he had passed out a good hour earlier, Ernie sprung up, wand in hand. Seamus stopped laughing, serious disposition in place, slowly drawing his own weapon. In an instant, Michael had thrown Terry back his wand and even Neville was dragging himself to his feet.

Silence.

"Does the party stop when the ladies arrive then?" asked a voice that was quickly followed into the Room by a Disillusioned Lavender Brown. She had a bag in one hand, her wand in another.

Terry slumped back into his chair, sighing with relief.

"Me 'earts pumping 80 miles-an-hour, Lav," said Seamus, resting his hand on his chest as if in demonstration.

"Oh, stop exaggerating, you retard," came a second voice from behind the chameleon form of Lavender.

Michael stormed forwards, "Get in, now," he ordered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Cool it, I thought Neville was our fearless leader?" Lavender said, giggling as she shuffled into the room, dragging Parvarti by the wrist.

"Myam," came a mumbled voice.

Neville had attempted to sit back down and wound up face first in the Room's carpet.

Lavender giggled. "If only Hannah could see him now, ey?"

*

They did not return to their drunken state very often as the days began to slip into weeks. Lavender and Parvarti's arrival caused the Room to begin to expand. The day after they showed up, the Room annexed a beautiful bathroom, complete with a half a dozen shower cubicles and multiple water closets.

And slowly, more and more students found their way to the Room. It added an extra floor, more hammocks and added even more facilities to the bathroom. The Room has surpassed itself.

He was sat on a sofa, reading a day old Prophet, just for something to do. He couldn't be like the Ravenclaw student's who were still vigilantly revising for the NEWT exams they would probably never take and he didn't want to start Duel practice until their allotted time. A pair of hands slid onto his shoulders and began to massage the tight knots, the scar tissue. "What are you thinking?" Hannah asked, whispering in his ear. She placed a light kiss on his neck.

He closed his eyes and leant his head back. "I'm thinking that I like it when you do that."

She swatted his head lightly. "Hush, you knew what I meant."

"I'm thinking about how little time we have left here. How little of our lives we could have left. How many of us are going to see July."

"I was afraid you'd say that," she mumbled into his hair.

"Come'ere," he said, pulling her around the side of the sofa and onto his lap. He kissed her forehead. "I have to think these things Hannah. I'm the fearless leader, remember?" He nudged her head with his own.

"I know. But I hate that it has to happen at all."

"So do I," he confessed.

*

"They broke into _Gringotts_?"

"You have to be kidding me!"

"What the hell do they mean, _on the back of a dragon_?"

"It's the Weasley twins, of course they're joking, right?"

"Potterwatch is serious, Lav."

"They wouldn't make something like this up, it's got to be true!"

Neville pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block out the incessant chatter that had just erupted among the sixty odd students in the Room. "Would everyone just SHUT UP!" shouted Neville.

The chat stopped instantly.

He felt smug.

"Thank you, I could barely hear myself think." He took in a deep breath. "They're not making it up. Why would they? It gives us solid proof, right? Harry is alive."

People began to nod in agreement.

"But-"

"Don't start, Seamus. Not yet," he said, cutting across his old room mate. "He, Ron and Hermione stole something from Gringotts right? It has to be the Sword of Gryffindor."

"But what on earth has the Sword of Gryffindor got to do with anything?"

"And how do you know it was in Gringotts?"

"Better yet, how did _Potter_?"

"I said shut up. Look, I don't know how Harry knew, but what else do you think Ginny, Luna and I tried to steal? It was in Snape's office and then he moved it to a Gringotts bank vault! It fits!"

"You didn't answer my question, Neville," said Mike. "What on earth has the Sword of Gryffindor got to do with anything?"

"I don't know exactly," said Neville, "But You-Know-Who is the Heir of Slytherin right? We think it has something to do with that."

"So," said Terry, slowly standing up from his position perched on the edge of Mike's chair. "Potter is now, theoretically, in the possession of a weapon that may or may not destroy He Who Must Not Be Named and we're sitting around debating whether or not it's all jut an elaborate joke pulled by Fred and George Weasley?"

A few people in the room flushed, some turned away, embarrassed.

Neville beamed at him. "Yes, Terry. That's exactly right."

"So, tonight?" asked Seamus, his face surprisingly serious.

"Maybe," said Neville. "We can't be certain, but we've got to put the other members on alert. I wouldn't know how to do that without being caught."

"I'll go," said Mike, pulling himself from his arm chair. Terry's hand shot out and gripped hold of his arm. Mike turned his eyes on him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

The room began to disperse, people talking, many jittery with nerves.

Hannah knotted her fingers with Neville's. "So, it's tonight."

"Or tomorrow," he said nodding. "Or soon."

She snuggled into his chest. "Soon," she echoed.

_This can't last forever,  
Raise a glass together,  
Doesn't get much better,  
No better than.  
This can't last forever,  
Raise a glass together,  
Doesn't get much better,  
No better than this._

________

**Author's note:** Note a couple more things pinched from Thanfiction's Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness: 'Fearless Leader' and the fact that Neville's back is scarred up – I won't tell you how though, go and read the wonderful fic yourself!

I liked writing this one though and I thought the theme of the song fitted well with the idea of the DA in Deathly Hallows. It's sort of, nostalgically sad. Especially in the face of what happens during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Hope you like it, sorry it's been so long since I updated.


	6. White Lines and Lipstick

**Song Six**

**White Lines and Lipstick**

_It's just these little pills_

_That make my dreams feel real_

_And I'm still craving more._

The room stank of stale sweat and piss. The carpet stuck to the bottom of his boots as he pushed his way through the crowd towards the bar. The strobe lights were flashing in time to the music, making his head hurt. On the dance floor, people writhed up against one another, scantly dressed.

He caught the eye of a barmaid, her hair chopped with vibrant purple dye in places. Her nose was pierced and she had a ring on her lip. "Tequilla," he shouted over the music and then he raised three fingers. She nodded. He watched as she stretched up to get the glasses, showing off her tattooed stomach.

She placed the small glasses in front of him, picked up a bottle of amber liquid and poured it. She put a plate of salt and a glass of lemon slices next to them.

He nodded at the drinks and said, "Want one?" to the bar maid.

She grinned, licked the back of her right hand and then sprinkled a pinch of salt onto the small patch of spit. He mimicked her.

They licked the salt, and knocked the liquid down their throats, grabbed the lemon and bit into it. He performed the routine again.

"Drinking alone ain't good for ya," she said, drawing close to his ear. Her artfully torn top gaped forwards showing him her ample cleavage.

"I was under th'impression you'd jus drank with me, love?" he asked playfully in thick accented Irish, his eyes lingering on her torn top.

"Only once, an I'm sure ya did two." She grinned wickedly and he winked.

*

They were in the back ally way, sharing a cigarette and kissing smoke. The last of the ash tumbled to the floor and he backed her into the wall, pushing his erection into her thigh. He began kissing down her neck gently, occasionally nipping at her flesh with his teeth. "I don't even know your name," she groaned as his hand slipped up her skirt. She wasn't wearing underwear.

"You don't need to know it," and he kissed her full on the mouth.

*

She was curled around him, her soft flesh pressed against his. She'd slipped into the dormitory at around two am and into his bed. She'd had a nightmare, needed comfort. Neville snored lightly over the other side of the room.

It hadn't been about sex, just wanting someone close. He tucked a strand of her curly blonde hair behind her ear, gently caressing the exposed skin of her arm. He was gonna marry her. After all this was over, after they'd beaten the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who, he was gonna take her to Ireland, buy them a nice little house and marry her.

He kissed her forehead, imagining their daughters with sandy curls and gleaming blue eyes, their mischievous little boys with a face full of freckles. And they wouldn't know pain and they wouldn't know the darkness. Mummy and Daddy would be heroes, survivors, proof that evil never wins. They'd be able to tuck them into their beds at nights with kisses and stories of happiness without worrying they'd awake to find them slaughtered, to worry that they had lied and that evil was just outside the door.

*

It wasn't enough. It was never enough. There was blood on his hands, a mark on his back, scars so deep that you couldn't even see them any more. He would drink. And he'd fuck. And he'd shoot up with junk. Or he'd snort the strongest snow he could lay his hands on. But it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

*

The Dark Lord had fallen an hour before and the dead were still being found, their broken bodies scattered around remote parts of the castle. They died alone, in pain, hidden, crushed, raped and shattered.

There was nothing victorious in that.

Within the hour before the final struggle, she'd been missing. He had hoped she was hiding somewhere, injured perhaps, but nothing too fatal. Or else helping someone who themselves was injured.

By the time they found her, under the rubble of the collapsed marble staircase, she had been dead nearly three hours. Her skin was dusted with debris, her hair smeared grey. Her eyes were glassy, lifeless. Her throat mangled and bloody.

He tugged one of her matted curls behind her ear, a faint gesture to that night lost long ago, hidden in Gryffindor tower, in a bed of soft and freshly laundered sheets. His hand slipped over her eyes, dragging the lids down.

If it weren't for the gashes at her neck she could be sleeping, but they were all too telling of the sexual predator that had ripped the life from the woman he would have loved.

*

He cut the Charlie into neat lines and used a Muggle twenty to snort it up.

Forget it all.

Forget the explosions and the screams. Forget the falling rubble and each shouted or uttered curse. Forget the noise of the splintering wood, of the sobs, of the roaring flames. Forget her scent and her smile. Forget the carefree afternoons spent lazing under the warm sun by the lake. Forget the feel of her skin in the dead of the night and the way her body lay spread-eagled on the battleground. Forget who fell and who walked away. Forget the nightmares. Forget the flashbacks. Forget the good times.

Forget it all.

________

**Author's Note:** Wow, I'm bad at this, right? This challenge was meant to be finished by the end of last year .

I'm gonna carry it on cause I honestly enjoy writing these little stories.

Seamus' wound up being much darker than I ever intended. My bad.

Hopefully another chapter soon :] A Draco one, I believe, if I consult my notes ;D


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